


Dark On Fire

by aurorlupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:15:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorlupin/pseuds/aurorlupin
Summary: Rodolphus proposes to Bellatrix under circumstances fitting for a Death Eater.





	Dark On Fire

Dark On Fire

The street was evacuated. Everyone in the little community of Tinworth had retreated inside their houses even before the storm had hit. Now that it had come ashore the only movement along the road was the cozy flickering of candles and the warm glow of dying fires smoldering from behind the windows.

The wind howled, picking up leaves and rain and slamming them against the sides of the homes with a force that shook their very foundation. Lightening flashed in the clouds and zig zagged down to the ground below, almost synchronized with the clapping and rolling of thunder as nature unleashed her fury on the small Wizarding town by the sea.

That was all very fortunate because Bellatrix certainly was causing a lot of racket.

Rodolphus Lestrange let the blue and white checkered curtain fall back over the window and turned back around to survey the damage that had been done to the quaint little cottage. Chairs and tables were overturned and tossed haphazardly across the wooden floor. His footsteps crunched with the sound of broken plates and glasses as he kicked aside the debris and made his way further into the house, following the sound of the screams.

Scorch marks covered the walls, the impact points of curses and hexes that had missed their mark. Pictures and paintings scattered the floor, only the backgrounds visible as the inhabitants of which had fled for cover and hadn't found the courage to return yet. The living room was in a similar state of disarray. The couch was flipped over, still smoldering and spraying ash into the air, blackening the crisp white paint on the wall behind it.

He paused at the bottom of the staircase and pushed back his sopping wet hood before lifting the heavy silver mask off his face. From the appearance of the home and the sounds coming from the bedroom upstairs he wouldn't have to worry about concealing his identity to any survivors. His Bella had a tendency of being a bit overzealous when it came to her assignments.

He ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair, shaking some of the water out of it before wearily rubbing the side of his untrimmed face. Death Eaters had been tracking this family for days. The young wife and the husband. The newlyweds had been shuffled around for weeks, from one safe house to another in an effort to avert the Dark Lord's wrath. Of course, it was Bella that found them.

The steady patter of water droplets falling off his cloak and the metallic scent that invaded his nose drew his gaze to the floor. His shoe dragged along something that felt a little thicker than the puddle of rainwater collecting at his feet. He pulled his wand from the inner folds of his robe and whispered the incantation.

"Lumos."

Fresh blood, and a whole lot of it. A thick smear on the landing, droplets of it going up the stairs, more sprayed on the banister. It seemed as though the trail of destruction was leading him in the right direction.

"Bellatrix?"

"Up here..."

The screaming stopped. The stairs strained and creaked and the sound of his heavy footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent house as he followed her voice up the second floor landing. His foot caught something heavy as soon as he hit the threshold and he lowered the light of his wand to the floor.

An Auror, but not the one they were looking for. Not the one that killed Wilkes. He had gotten a look at that bastard's face and it was burned in his memory. This one was likely the owner of the house, letting his compatriots stay somewhere safe. Look where that got him. He was the source of all the blood it seemed, from the way it was soaking through his white Ministry robe and pooling across the landing. Blunt force trauma to the head and the Killing Curse, if he had to wager a bet.

Rodolphus gave the body an unceremonious kick with his boot to topple it out of his way before continuing up the stairs to the third floor. The only light spilled out from beneath what he guessed was the guest bedroom door. The shuffling and whimpering behind it alerted him that he had found his way to his destination and he held his wand out in front of him steadily before pushing the heavy wooden door open with the opposite hand.

"Took you long enough," Bella pouted.

She was splayed out on her side on the bed, her black robes pooling around her slender form like the blood from the body downstairs. She hadn't bothered with a mask. Her hood was still draped over her head, casting her features into shadows, only the cruel smile that clung to her thin, light lips visible from beneath it. Her long fingers were lazily curling a strand of her black hair, her free hand rested on her knee, clutching her wand. She appeared no worse for ware.

The same could not be said for the couple occupying the room with her. The woman was facedown on the floor, her body still jerking from the effects of the Cruciatus curse, her hands still buried in her long blonde locks as she clutched her head in an effort to lessen the pain. But the pain wasn't coming from Bellatrix's wand. Her husband sat in the corner, eyes glazed and expression blank. His wand was still outstretched toward his wife, awaiting further silent instruction from his captor.

"Apologies, my love," Rodolphus crooned, "But it seems as though you've managed fine without me."

"Hmmm...well I had to keep myself occupied until you arrived," Bella answered, following his gaze back to the pair, "I wanted you to be the one to finish this. After all, Wilkes was your oldest friend."

Rodolphus crossed the room, stepping over the wife's body as he closed the distance between himself and Bellatrix. He sunk onto the bed beside her, offering her a smile full of admiration as he raised a hand to brush the hood back and run his hand through her black curls.

"I appreciate the restraint," he assured her, "Is that why you've been toying with the wife instead?"

"No," Bella answered deviously, her eyes flashing with excitement as she motioned to the Auror, "All this one did was whine about that woman once I got up here, 'Please just take me, leave her, she doesn't understand, she's Muggle.'"

She paused in her explanation to spit in the woman's direction as if the word left an awful taste in her mouth, her lip curling distastefully before she proceeded,

"I remembered how upset you were...that night with Wilkes. I wanted him to suffer for it. Deeply."

Her lips moved silently, a dark chuckle escaping her lips as she directed her focus back to her victim. The Auror's wand extended towards his wife to punctuate the explanation. His hand was shaky, as if everything he had inside of him was trying to stop the spell that the Imperius curse coaxed from his lips nonetheless.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Rodolphus felt the energy of the curse from where he sat, the strong whoosh of air that accompanied that bright green flash of the killing curse. He always imagined it was the rush of the victim's soul as it was yanked from the flesh that surrounded it and cast out into the night, leaving the body to crumple and fall, empty of life.

The Auror's wand clattered to the floor, horror and agony etched into his face as he howled in despair and dragged himself across the floorboards to where his wife lay motionless. He rolled her over, gathering her body into his arms and pulling her against him, clutching her head to his chest as it wracked with sobs. He stayed kneeling there, rocking back and fourth with his back to them. There was no effort to defend himself, to collect his wand, to fight or avenge. There was only anguish and the invitation to end it.

Rodolphus' eyes strayed to Bellatrix's face. She was expecting a surge of anger, a duel, but this she didn't understand, couldn't process. This acceptance of death from someone who had been fighting so hard for his life not long ago. Her head tilted to the side in confusion at the reaction. Her dark eyes were glued to the display, unwavering and intense, as though she was trying to appreciate the man's pain, understand the depths of it, comprehend the human bond she had just broken. It was the same expression she wore when Rodolphus had apparated back to safety after the raid, his friend's body in his arms, his face streaked with tears.

Although she avoided Rodolphus that night, uncomfortable with his emotional display, Bellatrix had done all this for him; searched tirelessly, endangering her freedom and her own life by bursting into a cabin housing two Aurors and taking them on by herself, trapping and torturing Wilkes' killer, holding him there until Rodolphus arrived. It was the only way she knew to make it right. Where she couldn't provide comfort she provided vengeance.

Rodolphus reached for her wand wordlessly, wrapping his own hand around hers and delicately lifting it. His digits intertwined hers as he centered the tip of it at the Auror's back. He released his grip and rested his hands on her shoulders as he leaned in to whisper in her ear,

"You finish it..."

"Avada Kedavra!"

Silence. The only noise in the room came from the howling wind at the window and the fury of the rain pounding on the roof above. Their eyes stayed on the Auror and his wife for a few moments, motionless on the floor, intwined in their last embrace.

"We should be leaving, my love," Rodolphus whispered as he stood from the bed, "No telling if one of the neighbors heard the commotion and sent word to the Ministry. Best not to wait and find out."

He never liked to stay in a place too long after a murder had occurred. He always sensed a heavy presence, lingering, watching him. It made him uneasy. Bellatrix nodded and stood, scooping up his silver mask from the bed as she followed him out the door. They were silent as they made their way down the stairs, through the ruin of the living room and into the kitchen.

"Can you feel that way? As that man did with his wife?"

Her question stopped Rodolphus in his tracks. He had been tugging his hood back over his head in preparation to step out into the storm, his free hand reaching for the doorknob. He jerked it back as though the metal had burned him.

"Excuse me?," he exclaimed as he turned around to face her, brow arched in confusion.

"Are you capable of feeling what the Auror felt for that woman?," Bellatrix clarified, clearly agitated as she struggled with this idea she tried to put into words, "Have you felt it before, I mean."

A simple enough question from anyone else's mouth.

Rodolphus had never called Bellatrix and himself a couple. The term didn't seem right applied to them. Though he supposed that was what they were in the loosest sense of the word. Their parents had practically forced his company on her since childhood and as they grew, he was one of the only young gentleman that Bellatrix would submit to spending time with. He was her escort to dinners, to parties, to any number of high society events that they had attended throughout their years at Hogwarts.

When he joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, Bellatrix was at his side, as she was every time they fought and killed in the name of the Dark Lord. During skirmishes they protected each other, encouraged and inspired each other to keep fighting. When it was over they tended each other's wounds and avenged each other's losses. Her enemies were his, his battles were hers.

While she slept, he watched her.

Rodolphus knew as well as Bellatrix did that they were expected to marry. They were both nearing the age where it was inappropriate for a pureblood woman and man that had been "together" as long as they had been to not be wed. It was practically preordained not only by their parents, but by the Dark Lord himself. A respectable appropriate marriage. Neat and convenient.

She would do it out of duty, if nothing else. But he would never trick himself into believing that she would do it for love. If she was even capable of the word she couldn't bring herself to say, he knew she didn't feel it for him. If she felt it at all, that love was reserved for the one man who would never give it back to her. Even so, Rodolphus had her allegiance and her affection, and that was about as much as any man could get.

"Yes," he replied honestly, meeting her dark eyes with a challenging stare, "I'm more than capable of feeling that way."

"Do you feel that way about me?," she pressed.

She might as well have been asking him if he thought it would be sunny tomorrow. Her tone held no pretenses, there was no emotion in it. Just curiosity. But that was her way.

Rodolphus swallowed hard as he chose his words carefully.

"Yes. If anything happened to you...I'd be devastated, just as he was."

Bellatrix nodded, her brow furrowed in thought, as though she was working through the implications of his answer. As she did her hand rubbed her left forearm absently, where the Dark Lord had branded her as one of his own loyal children.

"He won't have you. You know that," Rodolphus stated quietly as he reached out and covered her hand with his own, right over where the skull and snake lay seared into her skin, "But I would."

"I know," she replied, her eyes burning into his, "I know you would."

"Well, then the decision is yours to make, Bella," he replied as he pulled his hand back and turned away from her. He tightened his robes around him and opened the door, letting the wind catch it and slam it back against the frame as he stepped outside into the night to wait for her on the porch.

Bellatrix lingered in the threshold for a moment before she followed. She came to stand in front of him, spinning his mask between her fingers for a moment before reaching up to place it over his face, adjusting it until it was secure. Her hand slid over the contours of the silver until it came to rest, framing the face of the mask.

His arms encircled her small frame and he turned so that his back absorbed the rain and wind and sheltered her as best he could from the elements. She smiled, a seldom genuine smile and pressed her lips to the cold contours of Rodolphus' expressionless mask.

"You can have me."

Beneath the mask, Rodolphus smiled. His hand fell into the folds of his robe to extract his wand, and his arm shot into the air. With a triumphant, bellowing voice he summoned the Dark Lord's signature in the clouds.

"Morsmordre!"

Then they were gone.


End file.
